


Keeping It Together

by DigitalGhost



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Corrupted Steven, Gen, Internalized Mental Issues, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Wyrm, Wyrm Steven, Wyrm!Steven, corrupted!steven, transformations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 20:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalGhost/pseuds/DigitalGhost
Summary: Steven can('t) keep it all together, he can('t), he has to, he can't fall apart in front of them...
Relationships: Steven/Angst
Comments: 9
Kudos: 107





	Keeping It Together

**Author's Note:**

> english teacher: write a short story about a transformation  
me. who's been obssessed with the wyrm steven theory for weeks: hold my beer

Steven rushed into the school bathroom, breathing quickly and heavily. He looked around to make sure he was entirely alone, then went into the nearest stall and sat on the floor, hugging his knees.

_ you can't fall apart don't make them worry _

He'd run out of anxiety meds two days ago, and his dad was having a tough time at work lately, so he didn't want to bug him for more. He focused on his breathing. In, out. In out.

_ you can't be selfish don't act like a child _

He wished his cat was here. Lion's fur was always so unnaturally soft, it always helped calm Steven down during an attack.

Shakily, he reached into his backpack and pulled out his ukulele case. Music was something else to focus on besides the crushing pain of expectations.

_ you can deal with this alone _

Steven opened the case, but a small photo slipped out and fell to the floor. Confused, he picked it up.

It was a photo of his mom and dad on a beach, both holding a hand of two-year-old Steven. His mother looked boringly normal in the picture, even though he knew she wasn't. His mother had been of an ancient race of wingless creatures similar to dragons called wyrms. He'd heard his Dad describe her; a dark magenta, flexible body, silver horns all along her back. She could shift into a human form though, and chose to do so permanently to birth Steven before she died. He didn't even have any picture proof of her wyrm-form, so he usually didn't mention it to people.

Steven put the photo back in its case, and ran his hand through his black curls. He was feeling about good enough now to-

What was  _ that? _

He stumbled out to the sink mirrors, and pulled away at his hair, to see what he'd felt.

Through the large mass of his hair, a little grey horn peeked through, so small, you couldn't ordinarily see it.

A horn. On his head.

"I...I need to get more meds…" He mumbled, then grabbed his things and walked out.

"Really, Connie, I'm fine. I've been talking to my therapist about it anyway." He was saying, with a reassuring smile.

Connie sighed. "Alright… Just, tell me if it gets worse, okay?"

_ you have to do this alone _

He nodded, and she walked away.

According to Connie, he'd been going to a therapist bi-weekly for the last two years. According to Steven, he wasn't going to burden someone else with his problems. Especially when he and his dad could barely afford his meds.

He pushed up his sleeve to scratch an itch, but strangely, Steven felt something else. Harder than skin. Scales, almost. He looked down at it. It was pink.

Shame flooded through him as he fixed his sleeve and pulled his hat down, two horns now having to be hidden. He was becoming a monster. Or just more of a disappointment.

More changes revealed themselves. His teeth grew sharper. To hide himself, he always wore jackets and pants. He would often feign exhaustion, then go upstairs and try not to have a break down over the fact that he couldn't even be a regular human. He hated himself for it.

_ you can't be selfish just deal with it _

All of his medication stopped having any effect. He was having anxiety attacks about once (or more) a day, and they just seemed to make the metamorphosis go faster.

He called in sick for school. Connie texted him, asked if she could come over to check on him later.

_ they have enough to deal with don't be a burden _

He didn't text her back; handling his phone was difficult with his claws. He zipped up a backpack of food, photos, and his ukulele, and went outside.

Lion sat on the porch, staring up at him curiously. Steven- was he even still Steven anymore?- reached down to pet him a last time, but instead pulled away. He didn't want to hurt anyone he loved anymore, physically or otherwise.

The cat watched curiously as the strange, horned creature ran off into the hills, purple tears glistening from a distance. It wanted to follow the tragic mystery, but, then again, it never wanted to leave the house without Steven.

**Author's Note:**

> my first posted SU fic?? heck yes i am


End file.
